I used to know who you were, that was long ago.
Are you still that same person?

I’m not. but it’s ok, there is no need to pretend,
just because we knew each other once,
I think they were good times then.

Then was a time I only remember bits and pieces
of, I remember good things, though
I’m sure there were bad times also.

But the brain is fickle now, I’m sure it knows now
what it knew before, but now hides from conscious
thought, for reasons I do not know.

What was your name?


http://www.charlesdennispoetry.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis

As the washer clinks and clunks its way toward clean clothes.
I sit and think while listening to the rhythms of the machine
as it cleanses all. If it could only cleanse my mind of random
thoughts of nothing, that seem always to get in the way.

To clear a path to thoughts of substance, paving the way to
literary greatness, or at least a word that wiggles itself into
some mediocre write which I know shouldn’t have made it to
someone else's eyes.

I need that garbled clump of goop that feeds my appetite for
writing, as it dislodges remnants of times gone by, things that
are shaken loose from deep within my soul, while it agitates
and spins me in new and different directions.

It is what life has given me to work with, an abundance of
good and bad, new and old, fresh and stale, with a vehicle for
me to climb aboard to explore the deep recesses of my mind
and soul. It seems that vehicle stalls at times and hesitates
before it is able to start again and continue on its way.

To take me out of this non productive place I’m in, to that
crisp clean white piece of paper so my pen will flow to places
it’s never been.


http://www.charlesdennispoetry.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis

There was a time when I was
younger, I knew not what  I said.
When lies were the norm
In every day life,
and that’s just the
way I  lived.

Day after day,
and week after week,
the fabrications grew.

And the days into weeks,
weeks into months
as the years just
flew.

I?

I had no clue.

As a child I realized,  
life would not let this pass,
and someday in the
future I would need
to tell the truth at last.

While the lies kept
getting larger, the stories
were filled with twists
and turns, my mind was in
a frenzy, my life was just a blur.

Till one day a switch turned off,
no more lies would come.
Freedom day I recall in memories.
Was the day my life had begun.

http://www.charlesdennispoetry.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis

I don’t understand

it makes no sense

you loved me once

we held hands

you were mine

i was your’s

you gave no signal

for me to see

no subtle hints

for me to plea

You *****

You *****

You ******* ****

i hope my door leaves

a bruise on your ****!

The darkness of night it beckons me, it taunts me in my
dreams with memories of yesterday, and thoughts
of what could have been.

The darkness of night it beckons me, around
shadowless corners it lurks. The eyes of it they
watch me they track my every move.

The darkness of night it beckons me, to follow moonlit
shadows tonight, to the tomb of the blood stained
vampire of love into the darkest time of night.

The darkness of night it beckons me, to watch as the
warm red syrup flows, as a rippled river of life
along lost roads of old.

The darkness of night it beckons me, as vampires
gather to drink. Sustenance of life is what they seek
from the river that flows tonight.

The darkness of night it beckons me, to watch as the
stories of old unite, to begin the rituals of strength and
power as their fantasies take flight.

It was 78 degrees that day, while we walked amongst
the sun soaked grasses, and shadows
beneath the trees.

The leaves shimmered and shook in the breeze casting
animated images on the ground, and it
made us feel free.

As if the world revolved around us, we were the core
the nucleus the center of circulation, we were
free to be what we wanted to be.

Embracing life, as breezes caressed are faces we
walked amongst Gods creation and filled our hearts
with the substance of life.

Hand in hand arms entwined, we sat and watched a
fleet of boats sail by, created from their reflections
on the water, and ripples from the
wind blown lake.

A day in the life of us, my love is yours and your
love is mine, forever, she said to me ,as
I looked into her eyes.


http://www.charlesdennis.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis

There is a field with tones of brown and gold,
with islands of bark, intermingled with their
stories of old.

As I hike through its grasses, I see signs of  the past,
when men and their families walked in tall grass.

They hunted and killed, they built houses with trees.
I could see all of this through the slow falling leaves.

It is time for solace, time to relax, as
I walk through this field and its history filled grass.

They had come by the many to create a new life by this
amazing field that I now hike. Each with a struggle,
each with a path, I can still see them as I
stand in this field of gold grass.

The seasons are changing, the colors now white as I
think of those people, their struggles and plight.

The field now empty and the lakes are like glass
as I stand alone in this field of tall grass.


http://www.charlesdennispoetry.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis